Underestimation
by Mizu Iruka
Summary: AU of It's a Terrible Life. It's not Smith and Wesson, it's just Smith. The angels don't consider Sam important enough to include in their experiment and that . . . well, that changes everything. Castiel POV. Oneshot.


Castiel was uneasy.

It wasn't an unfamiliar emotion to him. Though when he thought about it, he had never felt uneasy before he had been ordered to raise Dean Winchester from Hell. He had felt strange, cut-off, and itchy in a way that could only be described as being uneasy when he had taken the mission. But this was another level of unease.

On one level, Castiel felt it was slightly wrong to change Dean's memories and his very existence in order to prove a point.

On another level, he _knew_ it was wrong.

But there was nothing to do. Zachariah had taken charge of Dean, and Castiel was put back onto his normal tasks of answering prayers and defending against demons.

He couldn't put his mind to rest, nor did he have anyone to discuss his fears with. Even if he could substantiate his fears, which was impossible.

Castiel sighed, a human characteristic he had inadvertently taken from Jimmy. There was a plea coming up, a strong one. It may have even been a summoning, but Castiel was too distracted and didn't take note.

"Hello, Castiel."

Castiel started. "What?"

Sam Winchester emerged from the shadows of the warehouse, jaw darkened by a week's worth of stubble, eyes hollow and bruised looking. Castiel could not figure out why.

"You didn't think you could just kidnap my brother and expect me to not find out."

Castiel relaxed slightly with the realization of the problem. It was interesting—neither he nor his superior had assumed Sam's attachment to his brother would extend to such extreme measures to find him. "I apologize. We have not done any harm to your brother. We are helping him remember who he is."

Sam's eyes seemed to give slightly at Castiel's first words, but hardened by the end. "What does that mean?" he growled.

"There was no way to bring Dean out of his depression. Nothing that we said, nothing that you did. So we decided to help him along."

If it was possible, Sam seemed to grow taller and more intimidating. Castiel did not fear the younger Winchester—he was an angel, after all—he just stepped back because his vessel's feet were aching. That was all.

"Let him go," Sam rumbled.

"He is not being held. It will be easier to show you," Castiel said, overcoming his discomfort and reaching forward. Sam stood stock still, gaze wary. Castiel could remember when the first time he had met Sam Winchester, and the faith in the man's eyes. He never thought he would regret causing that to disappear—Sam Winchester was an abomination, after all—but there it was. The guilt, welling up in him and not easily displaced.

Castiel took Sam to the building where Dean worked. "He cannot see you," Castiel warned. "We are only observing."

Sam barely spared Castiel a glance, striding forward to Dean Smith's office. Castiel noted how he did a double take at the name plate, but it didn't stop him.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was flabbergasted.

"He cannot hear you, either," Castiel clarified quickly. Sam shot him an unreadable look and turned back to Dean.

"What did you do to him?" he whispered.

"We substituted his old life for a temporary new one, so that he will discover hunting again, and realize his destiny." Castiel realized how awkward it sounded aloud, and very slightly cringed as Sam turned to him.

Sam's sneer was a cruel twist of his lips. "Let him go."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Are you telling me that you can get Dean back to his destiny on your own?"

Sam was not intimidated. "And these games will?"

Castiel resisted the urge to shift under Sam's intense gaze. "It is not in my power to . . . my superior has taken charge of Dean."

Sam viewed Castiel carefully, and then his eyes turned to Dean once more. There was an expression Castiel could not read on his face, a strange mix of longing and sadness.

"Take me back," Sam finally said.

Castiel took him to the warehouse, wishing to leave immediately, but unable to.

"Let me speak to your boss," Sam murmured. "Bring him here."

Relieved that Sam's attention would not be solely on him, Castiel called Zachariah.

"Castiel, this better not be a waste of my time." Zachariah deliberately ignored Sam, and Castiel winced.

"Sir, I just believe that . . ."

"We need to talk," Sam said. And then he dropped his lighter on the floor. A ring of fire flared to life around the two of them, and Sam Winchester took a step back.

Zachariah was enraged. "How dare you entrap us, you—"

"It's insurance," Sam said softly. "Holy fire. It just traps you, correct? I wanted to make a deal."

"A deal," Zachariah repeated flatly. "What might that be?"

Sam held his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "You have Dean in this little experiment to make him remember hunting and the like. Well, that's fine. I won't interfere. But if he never remembers his—" Sam's mouth curled derisively "—_destiny_ then I want your promise that you will let him remain in that life, safe, until the whole apocalypse problem blows over."

Castiel glanced at Zachariah, who was looking at Sam speculatively. "Why would we agree to this?"

Sam shrugged, seeming innocent. "What else would you do? My brother's stubborn. Trust me, if this doesn't work, nothing will. And if you yank him from your world, the fallout will be worse. Plus, I've got you in a ring of burning holy oil."

To Castiel's surprise, Zachariah nodded. "Very well. Stay away from your brother, and we will ensure he remains safe, even if he does not rediscover his destiny."

Sam dumped a bucket of water on the fire. "We have a deal," he said softly.

Zachariah took flight immediately, but Castiel hesitated. "Sam, I do not understand."

Sam's smile was empty. "Understand what?" he asked.

"All of it," Castiel admitted reluctantly. "Why would you want to leave Dean as—"

"—a boring corporate man? Because he's safe. And content. And doesn't remember Hell. I'll take what I can get."

"Why do you think he will not emerge as himself?"

Sam smiled enigmatically. "Because I know my brother."

"What will you do?" Castiel asked one more question, even as Sam turned away.

"Kill Lilith," Sam responded simply.

"You should . . . you should know, Ruby is working with Lilith," Castiel whispered. He wasn't supposed to tell him, as Zachariah had explained: Sam Winchester must make his own decisions. But Castiel felt uneasy, felt wrong about so much, and telling him this one secret was enough to give him a little peace.

Sam had turned. A bit of surprise, and maybe a tinge of faith, was in his eyes.

Castiel felt the urge to say something else, so he said aloud, "I think I may have misjudged you."

"Likewise," Sam murmured. He nodded briefly, and then he was gone.

The weeks passed by. Another hunter took care of the hunt that the angels had thought Dean would discover in order to re-find himself. So Dean never emerged as Dean Winchester, and continued his life as Dean Smith. Zachariah gave up, and turned the task of watching Dean over to Castiel. Castiel was still uneasy.

Weeks turned into months.

Castiel grew distracted by the other humans and their troubles, and was caught off guard when Zachariah came to him, the strange emotion of fear on his face.

"We must wake up Dean Winchester. It is an emergency."

"What is? I do not understand."

Zachariah's vessel's face spasmed. "Sam Winchester is about to kill Lilith."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Castiel managed to question.

Zachariah scowled. "No. It is not time, yet. Heaven's plans are far greater and more elaborate than this."

"But . . ." Castiel tried to protest. Zachariah cut him off.

"Now, Castiel."

Castiel was unsurprised when Dean was rather upset.

"What did you do to me?" Dean growled, slamming Castiel back against a wall. "Strike that. I don't care about that. Why, what, everything. Tell me what is going on. Now."

"I do not have time to explain. We must go to your brother."

Dean's eyes flashed dangerously, but he acquiesced. "That sounds like a good idea."

Castiel took Dean with him, to find Sam. And Sam was . . . dying.

"Sammy?"

Castiel took in the devastation around him. Two female bodies lay next to Sam, one stabbed through the heart, the other simply dead due to a violent exorcism.

"Dean. You're . . . you're here." There was blood dribbling from Sam's mouth. Castiel was astonished to see him attempting to smile.

"Sam, what happened? I don't remember . . . dude, the angels screwed with me, I don't—"

Sam reached out a shaking hand to take a hold of his brother. "Dean, I did it. I killed Lilith. I avenged you."

"Sammy," Dean breathed, and then Castiel noted suddenly that Sam's other arm was burned and twisted beyond recognition.

"I always failed, but I didn't. Not this time."

Dean managed to curl himself around Sam protectively, holding him carefully.

"I double-crossed Ruby, when she was gonna double-cross me. Played her. Took her blood, and I did it. No more hellhounds, no more deals, Dean. See? Look, stabbed her through the heart. Used my powers to kill Lilith. I know 'm a freak, but it was worth it, for this." Sam's words were a slurred, pained whisper as he babbled on. Dean's responses were slight hushing noises as he held his brother.

"Sam, why did you leave me in that place?"

Sam's voice was a strange combination of pain and happiness. "You were safe, and you looked so relaxed. I didn't want to take that from you."

"Never again, Sam."

Sam coughed, a harsh action filled with blood. "I hear you. I think my arm agrees with you."

Zachariah landed next to Castiel, looking enraged. "No, he can't do this!"

Castiel swung around to stare at his superior. "Did you want the apocalypse to start?" he accused.

Angels could lie, but to another angel, lies were slightly evident in the way their Grace flickered when they tried to deceive.

Castiel made his decision quickly, and struck before Zachariah had a chance to flee. "I am sorry, brother," he said, killing Zachariah and adding another body to the room.

Both Dean and Sam had turned and were staring at him, though Sam's eyes kept glazing over and rolling back.

"Cas?" Dean asked uncertainly.

"We have all been wrongly used," Castiel announced, feeling the unease within him pulling back. "I think I need to return to heaven."

"Wait." Dean's voice held a pleading note that Castiel had never heard before. "Please, heal Sam."

Castiel looked anew at the boy with the demon blood. "I will do what I can," he finally said.

Sam's arm had been burned with demonic flames, and Castiel could not restore it fully. He could, however, save Sam from death by healing his internal injuries. Once he had done so, the three of them went outside, to the Impala.

"Someone needs to explain what happened and why. As in, now," Dean spoke aloud, for the first time since Castiel had healed Sam.

"You were depressed, and instead of prescribing medication, the angels gave you an alternate lifestyle," Sam rasped out. Dean frowned, handing Sam a bottle of water. "And?" he prompted.

Castiel interjected quietly. "It was intended for you to re-discover hunting on your own, as your destiny. It turned out that we were wrong. Sam . . . Sam seemed to know that. He said that it was because he knew you."

The brothers exchanged a look that Castiel was unable to discern, but seemed to have some deeper meaning for them, as Dean said, for some reason, "you are such a girl," under his breath. Castiel was confused.

After a pause, Dean started again. "Sam, what did you—"

Sam grimaced slightly. "I went after Lilith." He gestured with his good arm to the building they had just left. "I guess it kinda worked out, huh?"

Castiel examined Sam's expression closely, and realized Sam was looking at Dean as if waiting for his condemnation, but with a slight hope for approval. He then turned to Dean, who was torn between anger and pride.

"You . . . you did it, Sam," he said grudgingly. "But next time, you friggin' wake me up from some weird life where I wear bowties, you hear me?"

Sam snorted and grinned.

Castiel was surprised to find their conversation over with that final statement. He waited for Dean to ask further questions, to possibly try and kill Castiel, but the elder Winchester seemed content to sit slouched beside Sam on the hood of the Impala.

"So no more apocalypse?" Sam asked softly.

Castiel shook himself mentally. "I would assume so. It seems that Zachariah planned to start the apocalypse himself. Killing Lilith early ruined his plans, somehow."

Dean seemed to become a bit more serious. "Cas, you've been . . . well, kinda okay, but the other angels haven't. I think I speak for the planet in general when I say it would be best if you guys stopped interfering with, you know, stuff."

Castiel nodded humbly. "I agree."

Sam shivered, immediately drawing Dean's attention. He flushed under both Dean and Castiel's gaze.

"I just . . . I'm off-balance," he muttered. "I think I'm gonna miss my arm."

"That's what you get for going after a demon by yourself. For a college boy, you're awfully stupid sometimes." Dean said snidely, but Castiel saw how relaxed Sam was when Dean curled an arm around his brother's shoulder.

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"No, you—" Sam looked up and saw Castiel watching and flushed. "Uh, yeah."

"I will leave," Castiel announced awkwardly.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said briefly.

"Yeah. Thank you." Castiel was pleased to see the faith in Sam's eyes. He allowed himself to smile.

There was nothing left to say, and Castiel took flight.

He wasn't uneasy anymore.

* * *

**A/N:** This started out as a "huh, you know, it doesn't make sense that the angels included Sam in their little thing" Because, you know, they thought of him as demon trash, so why have him re-discover his destiny? So this story spawned from that, and then turned into a whole reanalyzing of what Sam would do if Dean was trapped in this fake world. I was going to do it from Sam's point of view, and then Castiel's seemed interesting to take, because he wouldn't really get Sam, but as the reader, hopefully you could read between the lines there. Let me know what you thought!


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